A SOLDIER OF THE LEGION
[Illustration: NATIVE WOMAN CARRIER.]
[_Frontispiece._]
A SOLDIER
OF THE LEGION
AN ENGLISHMAN'S ADVENTURES UNDER
THE FRENCH FLAG IN ALGERIA
AND TONQUIN
BY GEORGE MANINGTON
EDITED BY
WILLIAM B. SLATER AND ARTHUR J. SARL
WITH MAP AND ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
1907
TO THE MEMORY
OF MY COMRADES WHO FELL IN THE FORESTS OF
YEN-THÉ AND THE JUNGLES OF KAI-KINH,
THIS WORK IS DEDICATED
PREFACE
Sitting at the terrace of a well-known _café_, on the main boulevard
of the French capital, some time ago, I happened to glance down the
columns of a Parisian newspaper, and was struck by a realistic account
of the recent combat at El-Moungar.
After describing this action,--a long, arduous, but successful defence
of a convoy of arms and ammunition by a handful of men from the Foreign
Legion against the repeated attacks of more than a thousand fanatical
Moorish horsemen,--the journalist expressed his admiration for the
courage and disinterested devotion of which this corps has so often
given proof.
The final phrase of his article can well serve as an excuse for, and
introduction to, the present volume:--_Si quelque philosophe ouvrait un
jour une chaire pour enseigner l'heroïsme et le dévouement, son cours
pourrait se tenir tout entier dans la lecture des citations obtenues
par la Légion Étrangère._
G.M.
HONG-KONG.
EDITORS' NOTE
The restless spirit of adventure which prompted the author, Mr George
Manington, to enlist in the French Foreign Legion, at a later date
called him post haste from London, and thus caused us, his friends, to
promise to see the manuscript of "A Soldier of the Legion" through the
press.
Though well under forty years of age, he had been a student in France
and Germany, a prospective doctor in Paris, a soldier in Algeria and
Tonquin, a man of commerce in Indo-China, an interpreter, traveller,
and journalist in South China, besides a participator in more fleeting
occupations in many lands, including Japan and the Philippines.
It was in the restful periods between these various enterprises that
this book was written. Malaria and kindred ailments, contracted during
his military service in Tonquin, hampered him from time to time, and
while he was recuperating in England from an attack, "A Soldier of the
Legion" made most progress. Presently a journalistic offer came from
Hong-Kong, and the prospect it afforded of more adventurous missions in
the remoter regions of the Far East proved irresistible. He accepted
by cable, called upon us to deal with the manuscript, and within a few
days was mailing further sections of the book from ports "somewhere
east of Suez."
We have dealt as lightly as possible with the manuscript, for it is
permeated with the brave and cheery spirit of the author, and, beyond
giving an eye to the connection of the narrative as the various
sections came to hand, our duties have been light.
An educated gentleman, Mr Manington has given an insight into the
unusual experiences of an Englishman in the French Foreign Legion,
such as no ordinary "mercenary" could have done. Most of the narrative
deals with Tonquin, and the fighting there against the rebels in their
forest fastnesses. Incidentally, in giving an account of his friendship
for the native sergeant, Doy-Tho, the author has been able to impart to
the pages of the book an Oriental atmosphere that we think will prove
attractive to the reader.
Acknowledgment is due to his friend, M. Cézard, who is fully acquainted
with the ground covered, both as a public servant of France and as an
accomplished artist, for the illustrations which appear in this volume;
also to General Frey and Messrs Hachette, the author and publishers of
a military work on Tonquin, for permission to reproduce the map and
plans of forts, in relation to the events spoken of in the description
of the author's service under the Tricolor. The map was prepared by the
officers of the topographical section of the French army in Tonquin,
and gives a detailed outline of the country in which most of the
experiences described by "A Soldier of the Legion" took place.
W.B.S.
A.J.S.
LONDON, _June 1907_.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
The _Ministère de la Guerre_--The recruiting office--Would-be
warriors--The Commandant--A repulse--Enlisted--Something
about the Legion--Marseilles--The _Abd-el-Kader_--Oran--Sidi-bel-Abbes
--In camp--Snow in Africa--Another Briton--Instruction of recruits--An
American--The 3rd Battalion--Barrack-room pranks--Route-marching 1-42
CHAPTER II
General inspection--The band of the Legion--The _caporal
sapeur_--Off to the manoeuvres--A near thing--Convalescence--Arzew
--Amateur theatricals--Bel-Abbes again--Volunteers for Tonquin--Oran
again--A good send-off--The troop-ship _Bien-Hoa_, life on
board--The Padre--Saigon--Along Bay 43-68
CHAPTER III
Some information concerning Tonquin--Haïphong--Phulang-Thuong--The
2nd Battalion--The Yen-Thé Rebellion--General Godin's column--A
surprise at Cao-Thuong--Colonel Frey's column--Nha-Nam--The
building of a fort--Reconnaissance--Night attacks--Native troops 69-134
CHAPTER IV
The difficulties of obtaining military intelligence--Native
spies--Ambuscades--Life at Nha-Nam--Doy-Tho--De
Lipthay--A tropical storm--The capture of Linh-Nghi--Monsieur
de Lanessan--French colonial administration 135-197
CHAPTER V
An execution--A rebel chieftain--A bid for liberty--De-Nam's
mistake--Linh-Nghi speaks--A new road to Thaï-Nguyen--In
the enemy's country--A sharp encounter--Cho-Trang--The fever-fiend--In
the hospital--Quang-Yen 198-247
CHAPTER VI
La Soeur Agnes--Exeat--Nha-Nam again--Picking up the
threads--Bo-Ha--Preparations for the campaign--With
General Voyron's column--An error in the art of war--A
big butcher's bill--Collapse of the rebellion--Stamping
out the embers 248-301
CHAPTER VII
The last struggles of a rebellion--Departure of Captain
Plessier--Our new commander--Man-hunting--A friend
in need--A false alarm--An unexpected rise in life--On
the Brigade Staff 302-338
CHAPTER VIII
General Voyron--Organisation of the Brigade--Piracy on the
Lang-son railway--Politics and pacification--Topography
and a tiger hunt--Among the Staff records--Colonel
Gallieni--General Pernot--Hanoï--General Coronnat--Death
of a friend--Adieu to the army 339-377
LIST OF MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS
NATIVE WOMAN CARRIER _Frontispiece_
TONQUINESE NATIVE TYPES _To face page_ 72
RIVER SCENE AT HAÏPHONG " 80
BOULEVARD PAUL PERT, HAÏPHONG " 86
THE FORTIFIED POSITION AT HOU-THUÉ. _From a sketch
by a French Staff Officer_ " 100
SECTIONAL SKETCH OF THE REBEL DEFENCES AT HOU-THUÉ " 104
INTERIOR OF THE FORT AT HOU-THUÉ " 110
A NATIVE SPY " 136
PAGODA USED FOR AMBUSH " 152
WATER BUFFALOES " 184
A _SAMPAN_ ON THE RIVER NEAR PHULANG-THUONG " 258
REBEL RAMPARTS FACING POINT A. " 282
MAP OF TONQUIN. _Published by permission of General
Frey and Messrs Hachette & Co. of Paris_ _End of Book_
A SOLDIER OF THE LEGION
CHAPTER I
The _Ministère de la Guerre_--The recruiting office--Would-be
warriors--The Commandant--A repulse--Enlisted--Something about the
Legion--Marseilles--The _Abd-el-Kader_--Oran--Sidi-bel-Abbes--In
camp--Snow in Africa--Another Briton--Instruction of recruits--An
American--The 3rd Battalion--Barrack-room pranks--Route-marching.
Most Englishmen, whose knowledge of the gay city of Paris is in the
slightest degree superior to that of the ordinary summer tripper,
are acquainted with the fine red stone building on the Boulevard St
Germain, which is known as the _Ministère de la Guerre_, therefore it
is unnecessary to give a lengthy description of this imposing edifice;
above all, as its connection with the present history is of the
shortest. It must, however, be explained why I, on the morning of the
26th February 1890, after pushing aside a big swing-door, found myself
in the vestibule of this home of the supreme direction of one of the
largest standing armies in the world, whose glorious traditions began
on the field of Ivry, and amongst whose galaxy of leaders figure the
personalities of Condé, Turenne, Carnot, Hoche, Bonaparte, Canrobert
and MacMahon.
I chanced one evening, after I had been living for the past two years
in the French capital, whilst in the company of several army officers,
to meet an Austrian gentleman, of old lineage and great wealth, who
entertained us with the recital of his experiences during the Tonquin
campaign of 1883-85. Owing to an _affaire de coeur_, he had enlisted
in the Foreign Legion, had risen to the rank of sergeant-major, was
twice wounded, and had been decorated with the _médaille militaire_ for
bravery in action.
This narrative so excited my imagination and desire for adventure that
I fell into slumber that night only after having decided on taking a
similar course, in the hope of warring in strange lands and seeing life
out of the rut.
I should here say, before going further, that owing to the action so
suddenly decided upon, I was often in the future to undergo suffering
and privation; yet never once during the five years of my service did I
regret the step taken and wish it retraced.
The next morning I put my project into execution, and, as aforesaid,
went to the fountain-head for information. Perhaps the officials may
have had serious doubts as to whether I was in my right mind; and there
was some excuse for them, for it is not every day that an individual
comes to the _Ministère_, and in a matter-of-fact manner asks to
enlist, in just such a way as one might ask for a room at an hotel.
Whatever their thoughts may have been, they were exceedingly obliging,
and informed me that I must go to the Rue St Dominique, the central
recruiting office, and obtain all the necessary information.
Somewhat disappointed at the delay, I started off at once for the
destination they had indicated to me, which is near to the famous Hôtel
des Invalides, and half an hour later found myself in a room which bore
a strong resemblance to the booking-office of a London railway station.
There were wooden benches round three sides of it, and five wickets
in the wall on the fourth. Facing the entrance and in the corner of
the room was a door, on which was painted in white letters, "Bureau
du Commandant de Recrutement"; and in the other corner, on the same
side, was another exit, leading to the room where, as I afterwards
learnt, the medical examination of future recruits took place. Upon the
whitewashed walls were several notices all bearing the same heading,
"République Française--Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité," and containing
instructions to conscripts as to the time and place at which they must
present themselves for enlistment.
It is hardly necessary to state that military service is compulsory in
France. There were about thirty men in the room, some sitting alone,
or in pairs, on the benches, others standing in groups. They were of
all classes of society, if one could judge by their costumes, and the
conversations which were going on were little above a whisper. A sort
of timid expectancy seemed to reign supreme.
Little or no attention was paid to my entrance, so I had time to take
things in. Espying over one of the wickets the words, "Engagements
Volontaires," I walked up to it, and attracted the attention of a
sergeant of the line who was in the office writing in a big ledger.
When I had stated my object he stared very hard at me, and, having
taken my name, told me to wait until called for.
I went over and sat on one of the benches, from which could be seen
all that was going on in the room, and amused myself by examining the
different types present, speculating, meanwhile, on the social status
of each and the wherefore of their presence.
There were many who were mere lads, the eldest of whom could not have
been more than nineteen. From scraps of their conversation which
reached me it was evident that they were volunteers who came to offer
their services before the time had arrived for their incorporation,
which is generally between the ages of twenty and twenty-one years.
They were drawn from all classes, and were attired in anything from
the silk hat and blue velvet-collared sacque coat of the well-to-do
_bourgeois_ to the dark cotton blouse and _casquette_ so popular on
the _boulevards extérieurs_. Seated in one corner were two young men
who bore the outward stamp of respectability. These, I afterwards
learnt, were in quest of the medical certificate which would allow them
to enter the Military Academy of St Cyr, which, like our college at
Sandhurst, is a school for army officers.
My attention was next drawn to a group of six or seven individuals
who were standing in a circle round one, whose rotund face and short
red hair could be seen above their heads. They were all men of from
twenty to thirty years of age. Several of them were neat and clean
in appearance, and seemed to be of the artisan class, but there were
others in a decidedly "down-at-heel" condition. The red-headed man
was evidently a wit in his way, if one could judge by the smiles and
low laughter which greeted his frequent sallies; and I was regretting
that I could not catch the meaning of his words, being too far away
for that, when by chance our eyes met; and after making his way out
of the group, he came across the room, sat beside me, and opened the
conversation with a polite "_Bonjour, Monsieur!_"--to which I responded
with equal urbanity.
"Excuse me," said my interlocutor, "but you are not a Frenchman, are
you?"
"No; I am an Englishman."
Then desirous, no doubt, of excusing his seeming indiscretion, he
continued:
"I asked you that question because I am myself a stranger--a Swiss--and
from your appearance I thought you might be here with a similar
intention to my own: that of enlisting in the Foreign Legion. Am I
right?"
"Yes," I answered, having no reason to conceal the object of my
presence there, and, besides, the looks of the man rather pleased
me. He was evidently a frank-speaking, good-tempered fellow, and his
clean-shaven face and neat exterior indicated a certain respectability.
I took him for an actor or a gentleman's valet. Knowing that I should
be likely to meet and mix with all sorts and conditions of men in the
road I had chosen, on taking my decision I had determined to accept
things as they were without complaint, so long as the life would bring
me new experiences which I could not hope to encounter in the ordinary
stay-at-home, humdrum existence.
"Well," he continued, "it appears that we have both chosen the same
route. I hope we shall be in the same regiment."
"The same regiment!" I exclaimed in surprise, "I thought there was only
one Legion."
"Formerly it was so," he replied; "but that fellow over there--a
German, who is going to enlist for a second time--tells me that about
five years ago the old Legion was formed into two corps, which go by
the name of the 1st and 2nd Régiments Étrangers."
I looked in the direction he indicated, and saw a tall man of about
thirty, whose stalwart form and straight shoulders betokened the
soldier. He was reading one of the bills on the walls. This information
interested me immensely, and I was just thinking of how I could best
approach this individual with the view of obtaining fresh details,
when the door of the Commandant's office opened suddenly and a
non-commissioned officer appeared, and, to my consternation, shouted
out my name. Instinctively I rose and answered "Present," just as if I
were answering to a call-over at school, all the other occupants of the
room eyeing me curiously as I did so.
In response to a gesture from the sergeant I stepped across, entered
the office, and found myself in the presence of a gentleman in the
uniform of a major of the line, who was seated at a big table covered
with papers and text-books. He was a red-faced man of about forty, with
short-cropped grey hair and a heavy moustache of the same tint. The
eyes that looked into mine had a kindly light in them, which belied the
somewhat brusque manner of their owner.
I uncovered as I entered the room, and saluted him with the stereotyped
"_Bonjour, Monsieur!_" to which he nodded a response, and, without
further preamble, said:
"So you are desirous of enlisting in one of the Régiments Étrangers?"
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Since when have you come to that decision?"
This unexpected question rather nonplussed me, but regaining my
composure I answered with apparent coolness:
"Oh! since yesterday."
He smiled, and then said, to my astonishment and anger:
"_Eh bien!_ you are a fool, my friend. Ah! that hurts you, doesn't it?"
(I had flushed at his observation). "Sure proof that stern discipline
would not suit you," he continued. Then in a softened and more kindly
tone he rattled along so quickly that there was no chance of putting in
a word:
"_Sacré bleu!_ The Legion--why, you don't know what it is. Well, I
will tell you--hard work--hard knocks--hard discipline, and no thanks.
And how does it end? Your throat cut by some thieving Arab if you have
luck; if not, wounded, and then his women make sausage meat of you. In
Tonquin the same sort of thing--only worse, with fever and sunstroke
into the bargain. A bad business! yes, a bad business!" Then his
voice took quite a paternal tone, and he continued: "You look like a
gentleman--you are one, I'm sure. Mind you, I don't mean to say there
are not others over there--there are many--poor fellows! Your family,
too!--think of them--such a sudden decision. _Sapristi!_ and all for
some trifling _bêtise, sans doute_. A petticoat, I'll swear--don't deny
it--I have been young also--a faithless sweetheart--Pish! There are a
thousand others who would be delighted to console you. No! No! A good
dinner, the _Moulin Rouge_, and to-morrow you will be cured, _sacré
bleu!_" He laughed, and added: "Try that; and if to-morrow you still
feel the cravings for a military career, well, come and see me."
Disappointed and somewhat resentful, for at the time I did not
appreciate the kindly intention which underlay the advice he had given
me, and imagined that I had been treated with undue contempt and
familiarity, I replied:
"To-morrow I shall return, sir!"
He laughed again good-naturedly, and said:
"Well, well, we shall see;" at which I bowed and left the room.
The outer office was silent and deserted, for it was the luncheon hour.
I was annoyed at this, having counted on obtaining more information
from the other men who had come to join. However, recognising the
inutility of waiting there, I proceeded to my usual restaurant in
a very disappointed state of mind, though in no way turned from my
determination.
At an early hour the next morning I returned to the Rue St Dominique.
The major, my friend of the day before, received me with many
deprecatory remarks concerning my persistence; but seeing that they
were evidently lost on me, he carefully perused my passport, which I
had been particular to bring with me, and I was passed on to the doctor
for examination. "_Bon pour le service_," ran the verdict given, and I
was then signed on for a period of five years.
After much waiting a _feuille de route_, a railway requisition for
Marseilles, and the sum of three francs for expenses, were given me.
The sergeant-major who handed them to me was kind enough to mention
that should I fail to put in an appearance at my destination within the
next forty-eight hours, I would be considered a deserter, and treated
as such. I left Paris that evening from the "Gare de Lyons," and
arrived at Marseilles about twenty-four hours afterwards.
At this stage of my story it is right to give a short historical
description of the corps in which I had enlisted, and concerning which
so many errors have been written, and so many delusions exist.
The Foreign Legion first came into existence in the early 'thirties
of the last century. It was composed chiefly of foreign adventurers
who had flocked to Algeria at the time of the French invasion of that
country. Shortly after its formation it acquired a reputation for
courage and recklessness which has never been allowed to die, and of
which its officers and Legionaries are proud to a fault.
Since its creation it has served with honour and distinction in
nearly every campaign undertaken by France. In Algeria, the Crimea,
Mexico, Tonquin, Formosa and Madagascar the Legion was to the fore.
The Legionaries, led by their colonel, MacMahon, the future Marshal
and President of the Republic, were the first to scale the breach
and enter the city of Constantine on the 12th October, 1837, after
an hour's bloody hand-to-hand conflict, during which half of their
effective were blown sky-high by a mine. They shared the same honours
with the Zouaves at the Malakoff under Canrobert, and the defence of
Tuayen-Quang (Tonquin), by eight hundred of this corps under Commandant
Dominé, during nearly four months of continual sap and assault, against
an army of twelve thousand well-drilled Chinese troops, is one of the
finest feats of arms in modern times. In France the blood of this fine
corps has flowed like water. In the winter of 1870, when it was decided
by France's generals that Orleans should be evacuated, two battalions
of the Legion, which had just arrived from Africa, were entrusted with
the defence of the suburbs of the town; thereby covering the retreat
of the main army. During six hours they held back the Prussian forces,
and were practically annihilated, for they lost seventy-five per cent.
of their total strength in killed or wounded, and it was never possible
for them to figure again as a corps of any importance in the campaign
which followed; but they saved the Army of the Loire, for the Prussians
suffered such terrible losses, and were so completely exhausted by
their repeated efforts, that all immediate pursuit was out of the
question.
The corps also holds a record for having had as officers men who
eventually became some of the most famous commanders of modern
France; MacMahon, Canrobert, Chanzy, De Négrier, Servière, and the
ill-advised but brave and romantic Villebois de Mareuil were amongst
the number. Originally, in addition to the many adventurers, whom
military instincts, hopes of plunder, and desire for excitement had
led to enlist, there were certainly a good many scallywags, perhaps
criminals; but to-day there are few, if any. Police methods have
changed considerably since the beginning of the last century, and a
fugitive from justice would be a fool indeed if he thought he could
evade punishment by joining the ranks of a "Régiment Étranger"; for
by so doing he would be thrusting his head into the noose, even had
he been able to procure papers affording him a change of identity to
enlist with, for nearly every one at one time or another has had their
photograph taken, and it is no easy matter to cheat the camera, neither
is it possible to evade the searching tests of the anthropometric
system.
The Legion, or rather the two Foreign Regiments of to-day, are composed
of deserters from other armies--of these the Germans are in the
majority--men out of work who don't wish to starve, and who can't beg;
scallywags, _i.e._ those men who have gambled or squandered their money
and can't work; officers who have been forced to resign owing to some
private scandal; and the hundred other culprits and victims of the
social conventions of to-day, the description of whose grievances, or
the peccadilloes which brought about their presence in the corps, would
require a volume in itself. Besides all these, strange as it may seem
to the calm, well-balanced mind of the properly educated majority of
respectable society, there is a comparatively great number of seekers
after adventure who enlist, some of whom actually possess an income
of their own, and are often too generous with it, for, much to the
annoyance of the sergeant for the week who controls the peregrinations
of the men punished with pack-drill, wine is cheap and good in Algeria.
Be they what they may when they join, deserter, unemployed, ex-officer,
gambler, defrocked priest, member of a reigning family (for I knew
of two such during my service), taken collectively they are all
Legionaries and _bons camarades_ once under the flag, for, with but few
exceptions, they possess at least one, and sometimes many good traits
of character, and together they form one of the smartest and bravest
infantry corps in the world.
The Legion originally possessed its own artillery and engineers,
but these were abolished in the 'fifties, and it became exclusively
an infantry corps. In 1885 it was formed into two regiments of four
battalions each, and in 1895 the effective of each corps was increased
by a battalion.
I arrived in Marseilles about nine o'clock in the evening, and having
addressed myself to a non-commissioned officer who was on the platform,
I was conducted by him to the depot, known as the "Incurables," and
lodged for the night. This was my first experience of a military bed
and barracks, and it must be confessed that I was not favourably
impressed by their cleanliness, or rather their want of it. Here I met
again my friend of the recruiting office, and six other volunteers for
the Foreign Regiments, and learnt from him that his name was Balden,
and that, like myself, he had been placed in the first of these two
corps. He had arrived the day before, and told me that we should leave
for Oran on the morrow by the steamer _Abd-el-Kader_.
The next morning, 1st March, 1890, we awoke for the first time to the
note of the bugle sounding the _réveil_; and after a wash and brush
up in the lavatory, came back to the barrack-room, where I had slept,
to partake of the usual morning meal of the French soldier--a mug of
sweetened black coffee and a slice of bread.
The room in which we had passed the night was, together with the
furniture it contained, of the regulation type, to be met with in the
barracks of most Continental armies. It was about 75 feet long, and 20
broad; there was a door in the middle of each of the longest sides,
and three windows at either end. It contained twenty-four cots, six
on either side of the doors. These beds consist of two iron trestles,
with three pine planks laid over them. A straw mattress, a bolster, a
brown blanket, and two coarse sheets complete the outfit. Along both
sides of the room is a shelf upon which each French soldier arranges
his neatly-folded kit, which must be placed just above the bed he
is occupying. From several hooks fixed underneath the shelf, are
suspended the water-bottles, belts, cartridge cases, bayonets, and
canvas wallets of the men. These must, of course, be arranged in a
similar and regulation manner by each one. In the middle of the room,
between the two doors, is the gun-rack in which all the rifles of the
occupants are placed. Between the rack and the window, at either end
of the room, is a plain wooden table with benches; it is at this that
the meals are taken. Just over every cot is suspended, from a nail in
the edge of the shelf, a card bearing the name, number and grade of
the man who occupies it. The room lodges two squads, each of which is
under the orders of a corporal; the "non-coms" being responsible for
the maintenance of order and cleanliness. Generally the rooms in French
barracks present a very clean and smart appearance. Such was not the
case with the one we slept in at Marseilles; but this can easily be
accounted for by the fact that it was used by a succession of passing
recruits, who possessed no kit and no knowledge of their duties, and
who occupied it for two or three days at a time, or for a night only.
At nine that morning I was detailed off by a sergeant to go with
another man and fetch the meal for the room. We brought it back from
the cook-house in a sort of big wooden tray with a handle at each end.
The repast consisted of a loaf weighing about one pound and a half--the
day's ration of bread--and a tin pannikin full to the brim with stewed
white beans, a piece of boiled beef and two boiled potatoes, for each
recruit. I must say that the food did not appeal to me at the time, but
it was good and clean, and exercise and a healthy appetite soon made it
palatable.
Food in the French army varies somewhat in its composition--that is
to say, lentils or rice are sometimes substituted for beans, pork or
mutton for beef; but the mode of cooking was the same at each meal, and
it was only on such grand occasions as the 14th July or New Year's Day
that roast meat was given. This, however, only applies to the troops
in France or Algeria, for those in the Colonies receive a much greater
variety of diet. I have heard also, since leaving the army, that
considerable change has taken place in this respect, and that some of
the regiments of the line are now quite famous for their _menus_.
At eleven we were called down to the barrack-yard and lined up. Here
we were joined by another detachment in civilian clothes; these
were recruits for the French regiments in Algeria, the "Zouaves" and
"Chasseurs d'Afrique." The roll was called, and we were afterwards
marched down to the "Vieux Port" and embarked on the steamer
before-mentioned, which proceeded to sea shortly afterwards.
We arrived in Oran about six in the evening on the following day, and
were immediately conducted to the barracks, where we found a preceding
detachment awaiting our arrival to proceed to the interior. Of this
Algerian city I saw little or nothing on this occasion, as my stay
consisted of a few hours only, and during the whole time we had to
remain in the barracks.
The next morning sixteen of us left by an early train for the town of
Sidi-bel-Abbes, at which is the depot of the 1st Régiment Étranger,
and we arrived at our destination about five o'clock in the evening.
I felt some emotion as I marched with my companions through the gates
into the barrack-yard, whilst the sentry and the men on duty standing
about outside the guard-room eyed us with evident curiosity; and some
of the latter made audibly rude remarks concerning our unsoldierlike
appearance, and the amount of licking into shape we would require. The
quadrangle, which was about 100 yards long by 80 broad, was surrounded
on three sides by two-storied buildings. To the right and left these
consisted of barrack-rooms and companies' offices on each floor; but on
the third side, facing the gate, the building contained the infirmary,
canteen, store-rooms, armoury and workshops of the regiment. No sooner
had we been halted than we were surrounded, but at a respectful
distance, by hundreds of soldiers in all sorts of costumes--fatigue,
guard, undress and walking-out order--for the "non-coms" who had
conducted us from the station threatened with dire pains and penalties
all those who should approach too close. Chaffing queries in every
European language were thrown at us, of which I came in for a good
share, as, owing to my being the tallest present, I was the Number One,
right-hand man of the detachment. One onlooker politely suggested that
I had joined because the feeding of such a big specimen was too great
an expense to my family. Unaccustomed to so much attention, I was
somewhat annoyed by our reception, although outwardly preserving a cool
demeanour; and I was greatly relieved when a sergeant-major appeared
on the scene and called up several men from the guard-room to disperse
the crowd. Our names were then called over, and we were conducted to a
room in the barracks where we passed the night. On the morrow we were
examined by the regimental doctor, and were given a regimental number.
This is done for every soldier in the French army, and this number is
stamped on every article of clothing and piece of kit he possesses.
The same day we were conducted to the Depot Camp, which lies just
outside the town walls; for it is here that the recruits are kept for
about six months until they are sufficiently drilled and disciplined to
be drafted into the battalions.
At this time the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the regiment were in
Tonquin, and the 3rd and 4th at Bel-Abbes, with detachments at
Mecheria, Ain-Sefra, and in other smaller garrisons towards the south.
Here I was taken to the squad in which I had been placed, and handed
over to the corporal who commanded it.
This "non-com" was an Alsatian, whose rough and rude exterior concealed
a certain good-heartedness. Judging by appearances, I thought I
had fallen into the hands of a brute, but soon discovered that
notwithstanding the invectives and threats with which his mouth was
for ever full, he was not a "bad sort," his bark being worse than his
bite. His name was Hirschler, and he came from Strassburg. He possessed
a pet grievance against the Government because Prussians were allowed
to enlist in the regiment; and he hated the men of this race most
heartily, for which there was some excuse, his father and mother having
been killed by a shell during the bombardment of his native city in
1870.
He conducted me to the tent in which I was to lodge, pointed out
my place, and went with me to the stores to draw a straw mattress,
sleeping-sack, bolster and a blanket. This done, he showed me how to
fold them up and to dispose my kit.
This tent, like the others in the camp, was of the ordinary
bell-shaped pattern. Round it a small trench is dug to prevent the rain
from coming in. The floor is of beaten earth, and is about 6 inches
higher than the ground outside of it. It usually gives shelter to eight
men. During the day the mattresses are doubled up and placed round the
interior close to the flies, which are then lifted so as to secure
ventilation.
The blankets and sleeping-sacks are folded neatly and placed on the
top of the bedding. About 6 feet from the ground is a circular board,
and through the centre of this the pole of the tent passes; thus
serving as a shelf on which the pannikins, tin cups, spoons, forks and
knives of the men are kept. Underneath this shelf are hooks on which
the rifles, belts and water-bottles are hung. Each man's knapsack is
placed flat on the ground to the right of his bed, and his kit, which
must be well folded, is placed upon it. The inside of the tents is
kept very clean and tidy, and presents quite a smart appearance. This
particular one contained seven occupants, including the corporal. The
camp, which sheltered from five to six hundred men, was situated in a
grove of laurel and eucalyptus trees; and during the spring and summer
it presented a very picturesque and sylvan appearance. The weather was
still very cold, and my first experience of outdoor life was rather
a trying one. The winter of 1890 was exceptionally severe, as may be
judged by the fact that on the morning of the 9th March I awoke to find
the tent I was in covered with snow--an almost unprecedented occurrence
in Algeria.
During the first few days of my service I, together with the last batch
of recruits, was drilled in camp each day. When we had sufficiently
mastered the art of forming fours, marching and halting at the word of
command, we were allowed to go out with the other companies to morning
exercise on the parade ground outside the main gate of the town.
Sidi-bel-Abbes, like many French towns built in Algeria since the
conquest of that country, is surrounded by a loopholed wall and ditch,
with one or several gates on each side of it. I had been drilled at
school, and found this of great help to me, so far as squad and section
movements were concerned; but I had never handled a gun, and had rather
a hard time learning the rifle and bayonet exercise, for the early
mornings were very cold during the first six weeks, and my fingers
would get so numbed that each time I touched the steel of my weapon
it seemed to burn them to the bone. During the frequent intervals for
rest the recruits of each squad would run round their stacked rifles,
swinging their arms the while--like the cabmen on the ranks at home--to
restore the circulation; and they would keep this up until the bugle
sounded the "fall in" again.
However, when the weather became warmer and we "shaped" better, I
rather enjoyed these three hours every morning; the first two of
which were devoted to squad and section drill under the order of
the "non-coms," and the last one to company and battalion movements
directed by the officers.
At 9 A.M. we would march through the town back to camp, with the drum
and fife band at our head. At 9.30 the first meal was served out. At 10
the companies assembled to hear the daily "report" read; and from 10.30
to 4 P.M. the time was taken up by gymnasium classes, fencing lessons,
and the lectures and explanations given by the sergeants on duty, of
the different text-books.
The whole day of Wednesday in each week was occupied by route-marching,
and the afternoon of Friday by shooting on the range. The evening meal
was at 4.30, and afterwards all men not on duty or the defaulters' book
could go out till the _retraite_, which was at 8.45. Roll call was
sounded at 9, and "lights out" at 10 P.M.
The life, though somewhat hard for a recruit, is not so bad as one
might imagine. Discipline is always somewhat irksome at first, but one
gets used to it. Some of the "non-coms" were objectionable, and seemed
to delight in getting the men into trouble; but they were exceptions,
and I managed to keep clear of them, thanks to my efforts to do my
best, and a certain amount of goodwill. The corps maintained a great
reputation for smartness, and a very searching kit inspection took
place every Saturday afternoon. It was then that the private whose
accoutrements were dirty, or whose linen was unwashed, got into serious
trouble.
In the barracks there were lavatories, a washhouse, bath-room and an
abundant supply of water; in the camp a stream which ran through
it served the same purposes. With a little trouble a man could keep
himself and his outfit in a state of cleanliness, and it was his own
fault if he did not.
Much has been said concerning the iron discipline which reigns supreme
in the Legion, but whilst serving with the corps I never suffered
any real inconvenience from it: unless a punishment of "two days to
barracks" can be considered of much account. It was well merited, for,
through sheer carelessness, or perhaps because I wanted to get out a
little sooner, I forgot that I was orderly man for the day, and left
all the tin platters in the room after the evening meal was finished,
instead of taking them down to the cook-house.
A regiment of men is not like a girls' school, and it is impossible to
maintain discipline in a corps composed, as mine was, of so many "hard
cases" unless a certain amount of severity is used.
In nearly all instances when prolonged punishments of "cells" and
pack-drill were inflicted the offences originated through drunkenness;
and the same is the truth for nine out of every ten cases in which
court-martials were necessary.
Drink is the curse of all armies, and of the French one in particular.
Wine is cheap, and, what is worse, absinthe is also; and the abuse
of this stimulant is responsible for most of the individual cases of
military crime in Algeria. Therefore the authorities are perfectly
justified in using the severest methods to restrict and discourage the
use of it.
About a fortnight after my arrival I was sitting one evening in my
tent engrossed in the cleaning of my rifle, when the flap was lifted,
and another private came in who did not belong to my squad. He was
tall, fair, wore a heavy moustache, and presented a very erect and
soldier-like appearance. He came straight up to me, and said in my own
tongue:
"You are the Englishman, are you not?"
"Yes," I replied, much surprised at being thus addressed by a man I had
never seen in my life before. "Who are you?"
"My name is Knox," he answered; "I joined last week at Calais. I am
English too--or rather Scotch," he added with a laugh. "Having heard
of you from some fellows in my tent, I have come over to look you up."
Really pleased to meet another Briton, I proposed an adjournment to
the canteen, where we could talk at our ease. He acquiesced, and I
proceeded to put the breech-bolt of my rifle together again. As I was
doing so he picked up my gun, and after squinting down the barrel to
see if it were clean, buckled the leather sling on again, for I had
taken it off before starting operations, as one is instructed to do.
He manipulated the weapon in such a "know-all-about-it" manner that I
could not help observing:
"This is not the first time _you've_ handled a rifle, Knox."
"You are right," he replied with a smile; "I was six years in the
British army."
He handed me my gun, which, after adjusting the breech-bolt, I hung up
on its hook. We then went over to the little wooden canteen, and over
a pint of Algerian wine we exchanged confidences. He told me that he
was from Edinburgh, had failed to get into Sandhurst, and "listed" as
a private in an infantry regiment. He served in India with his corps,
rose to the rank of sergeant and was broken after a "drunk"; was again
promoted, and was in charge of a military telegraph station in Burmah
during the last campaign. Tired of the service, he had "bought out,"
and returned to Scotland. Once home he had gone on a series of "busts,"
which had so disgusted his people that they had refused to come to his
aid when he had run through all he possessed.
Almost devoid of resources, and having heard of the Legion, he went
over to Calais and enlisted. He told me that he had the firm intention
of turning over a new leaf and of doing his utmost to obtain a
commission in his new corps, and I have no doubt, considering his
previous experience, that he would have succeeded. Unfortunately, his
career was cut short in a most untoward manner, much to my grief, an
account of which is given in its proper place in this narrative.
Knox and I soon became fast friends. His knowledge of the calling was
a great aid to me, and he was always glad to help by giving me "tips,"
which, small though they might seem, were of great assistance and often
kept me from getting into trouble. On evenings and Sundays we passed
all our spare time together, going for walks in the town, or outside of
it.
We often visited the Arab quarter, which is the great curiosity of
all Algerian towns. Together we would enjoy a dish of _kus-kus_, a
slice of braised mutton, or a plateful of fresh dates, in a Moorish
tavern; or sit over small cups of thick coffee and listen to a native
story-teller, or watch the _Moukirs_ dance in an Arab _café_.
On Sundays we went further afield, and took long walks through the
vineyards, during which we would talk of home and our people, and
speculate on what they might be doing.
When the warm weather had set in we would go out a few miles, on the
road to Ain-Sefra and the desert, to a cluster of big olive trees--our
favourite spot. We would lie down on the grass in the shade and talk
over our chances of seeing active service, either in Tonquin or on the
frontier of Morocco, until, tired of doing so, we would lapse into
silence and, stretched flat on our backs, stare up at the patches
of light blue sky visible between the green foliage, or at the
ascending smoke of our cigarettes as it faded into space. Sometimes
the soft warmth of the Algerian spring, the drone of the bees, and
the monotonous chirp of the big grasshoppers would seduce us into a
siesta, from which we awoke to watch with lazy eyes, which blinked at
the strong sunlight, the veiled women coming from a spring near by,
as with easy and graceful carriage they balanced on their heads the
big earthenware pitchers full to the brim with water; or a long line
of camels, laden with fresh dates and figs, striding along in their
ungainly way towards the town, the silence broken only by the dull,
shuffling sound made by their hoofs in the dust, or an occasional
"Arawa!" from their white-clad Arab conductors.
During the month of May we made the acquaintance of a private whose
name was Daly. He was an American, and an artist of no mean talent. He
had studied painting in Paris, and was for some time, I believe, in the
studio of Gérôme. Daly was a man of about five-and-twenty, under the
average height, and of refined and pleasant manners. He had joined, he
told me, after a run of very bad luck at Monte Carlo, where he had
lost all the money allowed him by his father to defray his expenses
during his period of study in France.
Although he had already been more than a year in the regiment when
I met him, he had never handled a rifle. Since he had joined he had
done nothing but paint the portraits and decorate the quarters of the
officers. He willingly accompanied Knox and myself in our excursions,
and shared our small pleasures, and we found him a most entertaining
companion. He possessed the smallest feet I have ever seen on a man;
and we would often chaff him about this trait, which was the despair
of the regimental "corporal shoemaker," who was forced to make special
boots for him, for the stores contained no fit for such diminutive
extremities. I lost touch with him when I left Algeria, and have never
heard of him since. I trust, however, that he continued an artist till
the end of his military career, and that he is now enjoying the success
his talent deserves somewhere in "God's country," as he used to call
his native land.
Although I have only spoken of my intimates, Knox and Daly, I was
soon on good terms with all the other men in my company whom I came in
contact with, and the fact that I could converse in the languages most
in use was of great help to me in maintaining good relations with them.
About sixty per cent. of the Legionaries belong to Latin or
French-speaking races; of these the Belgians, Swiss, and the majority
of the Alsatians use that language, and the Italians and Spaniards very
soon acquire it; but it was the rapidity with which the German and
Austrian recruits gained a colloquial knowledge of it that surprised
me. I attribute this to the fact that their education was generally of
a higher standard than that possessed by the men of other nationalities.
About the middle of July, together with a batch of other recruits whose
primary training had been found satisfactory by a board of examining
officers, I was drafted into the 1st Company of the 3rd Battalion,
which was lodged in the barracks.
On our arrival in our new quarters we were subjected to the usual
series of practical jokes invented for the special benefit of "Johnny
Raw," or "Le Bleu," as "Dumanet" calls the recruit. These pranks
are of various descriptions, one of the most favourite being that of
arranging a man's cot in such a manner that by pulling on the supports
at the foot of it, it collapses, and its occupant slides out with all
his bedding and kit on top of him.
Mock courts-martial by candle-light are also held on offenders who have
broken the unwritten law of the barrack-room. The culprit is always
found guilty, but generally escapes with a fine, consisting of a few
_litres_ of cheap wine, which is drunk by his room-mates, and of which
he is invited to partake.
I never saw any real malice brought to bear in these jokes, and any one
possessing a reasonable amount of good-humour can pass the ordeal, and
even laugh at one's own occasional discomfiture.
The military education of the men in the battalion is a very serious
matter, and is carried much further than at the depot. Particular care
is given and a considerable amount of time devoted to perfecting the
men in shooting and in training them for route-marching.
Good shots are encouraged by the distribution of badges placed on the
sleeves, silver chains to be worn across the tunic, and watches of the
same metal.
When I was drafted into the battalion, the troops were still using
the rifle, model 1874--better known as the "Fusil Gras," the calibre
and trajectory of which closely resembled those of the old Martini of
the British army. This weapon was on the side-bolt principle, and its
mechanism was so strong and simple that in the event of it becoming
hard to manipulate owing to constant tiring the breech-bolt could be
slipped out and cleansed of black powder grit in a few seconds by
washing it in a puddle, or by pouring a little water over it. I have
seen this done on several occasions in Tonquin when there had been hard
shooting, for during the first year I was out there we still retained
this weapon. When using the rifle, however, one had to be careful not
to shoot with a loose shoulder, for its "kick" was tremendous; and I
have sometimes seen a black eye or a bleeding nose the reward of those
who neglected these precautions. The bayonet of this arm was of the
sword pattern, with a blade about 2 feet long.
The system of training the infantrymen to perform long marches is an
excellent one in the French army, and I have read the opinions of
English military experts who declared that they are second to none in
speed and endurance. Each Wednesday was devoted to this useful branch
of military art.
The recruits start on their first march with their rifle and side arms
only, and cover a distance of about 20 kilomètres--that is, about
12-1/2 miles.
This distance is gradually increased, as is also the weight carried,
until, a man loaded with all his kit, rifle and bayonet, reserve
food for two days, a blanket, an entrenching tool and 120 rounds of
ammunition, which represent a total weight of about 50 pounds, can
perform a march of 45 kilomètres--that is, about 28 miles--in ten hours
with ease. This space of time includes a rest of ten minutes in each
hour whilst marching, and a halt of an hour for a meal. Deducting the
time lost during the halts, the average speed is about 3-1/2 miles an
hour. In many cases during forced marches much better work is done, but
the results given above are what the French infantryman who has been
nine months with the colours can do with ease; and he maintains this
standard during the remainder of his service, thanks to the continual
training he undergoes. The men in each battalion of the Legion are
very proud of the capabilities of their unit in this respect, and when
called upon by their officers will make every effort to break records
of forced marches made by other corps.
On the return to barracks after the march the non-commissioned officers
of each company inspect the men's feet, and instruct their subordinates
in the proper manner of treating blisters or chafes. I have myself
seen an example when the results of this excellent system of training
to resist fatigue has been of most signal service. As this incident is
described in detail in a later chapter, I may simply mention that in
January, 1892, a small relief column, of which I was a unit, performed
a forced march of about 52 kilomètres,--or 32 miles--in eight hours.
This may not seem an extraordinary performance for Europe, but it must
be borne in mind that it was done in the tropics, and that the road--if
a path about a foot wide can be so called--ran through dense jungle
and forest, or over slippery rocks, and that part of the distance was
covered at night. In England the men are trained to route-marching
during the summer and autumn only, which is due, no doubt, to the
inclement weather of our winter and spring months; but in France and
Algeria the troops are thus exercised right through the year. Whilst
marching outside the towns the troops are allowed to smoke and sing.
All these military ditties, some of which date back in their origin to
the early part of the eighteenth century, possess a swinging chorus,
which is taken up by the whole column, with a surprisingly encouraging
effect on the dust-stained, tired men, who, towards the end of a long
day's tramp, are "swallowing the last kilomètre" with weary legs and
aching loins.
It is of interest to note that the majority of French soldiers wear
no socks when route-marching; this is owing to the fact that they
generally chafe the feet of the walker. Some of the men wrap their feet
in a triangular piece of linen which they call a _chaussette russe_;
but in most cases nothing at all is worn inside the boot. Personally,
I have found the last system the best conducive to comfort when a
long distance has to be covered; but care must be taken that the boots
worn fit well at the heel, ankle and instep, so that the foot does not
slip about in them. They should be broad across the toes, and about
half an inch longer than the foot itself; and, most important of all,
should be so well greased that the leather of the uppers is as supple
as india-rubber. Tallow is as good as anything for this purpose, but
in Tonquin I found castor-oil--which is cheap and plentiful in the
colony--a most excellent substitute.